


Featherlight

by wartransmission



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M, Massage, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-13 01:55:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1208494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wartransmission/pseuds/wartransmission
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haru doesn't really mind dealing with Makoto's childish whims. He's been with Makoto long enough to understand that it's his way of asking for someone to spoil him, and he does it rarely enough that Haru can indulge him.</p><p>What he does mind is when Makoto overexerts himself, and Haru has to be the one to deal with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Featherlight

"Nn, is it supposed to hurt like that, Haru?"

 

"It wouldn't hurt if you stopped overexerting yourself," Haru mumbles under his breath, not at all enjoying the way that Makoto makes a sound of complaint when he presses down a little harder against Makoto's wide back. Though really, he does, just a little bit. It's getting annoying, being asked to do this whenever Makoto wins a game against him. In any case, it shouldn't hurt if Makoto stopped helping people with their errands, right? It's his own fault, in the end.

 

"You're so cruel, Haru," Makoto moans, turning his head from its resting position on his folded arms so he can peek up at Haru. "It's only fair since I won, isn't it? And you didn't even let me dry your hair."

 

"Are you a kid?" Haru asks as he rubs his fingers in circles on Makoto's shoulder blades.

 

Makoto laughs at the notion, though the sound eventually trickles into little hums of satisfaction as Haru starts to move lower on Makoto's back. "Maybe," he mumbles with a smile.

 

Haru rolls his eyes at those words but doesn't say anything, thinking that it doesn't even dignify a response from him. Instead, he continues to press and knead along Makoto's large back, finding the knots that make practice painful for him and massaging them until they feel a little bit better. "This would be easier if you didn't have such a large back," Haru grumbles. It's a beautiful back, admittedly, considering how he had to observe it a lot for drawing practice, but that doesn't mean that he particularly enjoys having to massage the whole of it. His hands were made for the water, for cooking, for the arts- not for massaging stupid wishy-washy seventeen-year old boys' backs who don't know their limits.

 

"Sorry, Haru," Makoto says with a laugh. He doesn't sound very apologetic; not that it even matters in the first place. There's really nothing to apologize about, anyway, seeing as Haru could've said no if he really didn't want to do it.  "That makes it harder for you, doesn't it? You don't have to do my whole back if it troubles you that much."

 

"I don't like leaving things half-finished," Haru says in response, to which Makoto bites back a grin.

 

"That's true, isn't it?" Makoto mumbles with a sleepy smile, before yawning into his arms. "Haru is really good with his hands."

 

"Nn," Haru hums, sliding his hands up from the curve of Makoto's back to his shoulder blades. It earns him a pleased sound and he hides an amused smile, because- as is the usual- Makoto immediately turns and hides his face in the space of his arms as he moans in embarrassment. It's not like Haru could fault him for feeling good because he was being massaged like this, though it's not exactly _his_ fault that Makoto is so vocal about it.

 

"I can hear you laughing inside your head," Makoto whines into his arms. Haru bites back a snort of amusement at the accurate guess, choosing instead to focus on massaging the lower portion of Makoto's back. "It's not funny, Haru."

 

"I'm not laughing," Haru says, before using his thumbs to press down on the middle of Makoto's back as he slides them up and down in a slow soothing motion.

 

"I can feel you smiling," Makoto retorts. Haru immediately hides his smile by firmly pressing his lips together in a straight line. What was wrong with finding Makoto's vocal nature amusing, anyway? The only thing that really makes it embarrassing is how embarrassed Makoto is about it, like the sounds were made because of none too innocent reasons even though they really weren't.

 

"It's embarrassing because I know what you're thinking," Makoto grumbles as he turns his head to peek at Haru again. Makoto sighs, giving Haru a mockingly disappointed look.  "Maybe you should stop, Haru. It's no good after all."

 

Haru feels his eye twitch at those words. Was Makoto honestly trying to bait him by saying that his skills in massaging were inadequate?

 

It's a childish thing to do, but really. Who was Haru kidding?

 

"Not finished yet," Haru mumbles in turn, before pressing down a little harder on Makoto's shoulder blades. It earns him a loud grunt of surprise and Makoto hides his face again, his grumbling and whining muffled by his pillow and arms as he keeps his face turned away. Haru says, just to get Makoto's attention again through all of that whining, "We both know that you don't want me to stop, anyway."

 

"Be quiet," Makoto says in that exasperated tone of his reserved for dealing with his siblings. "I'm not the only one who likes doing it either, Haru."

 

Haru doesn't bother to retort, which is a first. He doesn't feel like denying it this time considering how it takes too much effort to banter with Makoto when they're both tired enough from practice- Makoto more so, considering how he's not as relaxed in the water as Haru is. The pregnant silence is why Makoto turns his head to the side to look at Haru again, his green eyes wide in surprise as he blinks thrice in succession.

 

It's not even that he completely likes spoiling Makoto. Of course, he dislikes having to be the one to deal with this side of him, because his wishes can get annoying. You'd think that someone so much bigger and reliable than him wouldn't have such a childish side, and yet he does. Then again, he could always say no, couldn't he? He always has the chance to tell Makoto to stop being childish, but he doesn't ever do a thing to stop him.

 

(Much as he doesn't like admitting it to himself, he does like it when Makoto turns to him when he wants to be spoiled. It's hard not to feel special when Makoto is like that towards him.)

 

"You'll hurt your neck if you keep looking at me like that," Haru says. Makoto pouts at being told off but rests his head more comfortably on his arms anyway, his gaze to the wall now as he sighs.

 

"I was just surprised," Makoto mumbles. He struggles to keep his eyes open all throughout Haru's ministrations on his back, and he doesn't bother to stifle his little pleased sounds this time even as Haru's hands massage away the knots in his upper back. "But I'm happy that Haru doesn't find this annoying."

 

"Who said I didn't?" Haru asks, raising an eyebrow when Makoto laughs softly in response.

 

"No one, Haru," Makoto says in that knowing tone of his, an amused smile on his face as he gives in and closes his eyes. He knows well enough that Haru only said it on instinct, having been used to keeping people at arm's length to keep himself safe from getting too close. Though, in the end, it's useless against Makoto since he knows him so well. Maybe it's why he keeps on doing it, because he knows that Makoto would understand even if he doesn't say anything straight out. Something like a reminder that, if everything else in his life turns to ruins, there's always Makoto to keep him standing. Someone who could understand him without having to force him to speak his mind.

 

"Ne, Haru, do you think you could move a bit?" Makoto asks and Haru looks up, blinking blue eyes in confusion as he looks down at his hands.

_Ah_. He's been rubbing at the same place for too long. Haru hides his embarrassment by lowering his head and focusing on his hands, moving his fingers' circular motions to the left half of Makoto's wide back. It doesn't take long before the slight warmth in his face dissipates and he relaxes, shifting a little on his place as he slides his hands to the curve of Makoto's back so he can massage along his sides.

 

Makoto's skin isn't as soft as it was when they were both kids, having changed into something harder ever since they began seriously training. Though, it isn't as surprising when Haru's been with him the whole time they trained. Haru slides his hands, perhaps a little too slowly than what is required, down Makoto's back to massage the lower portion with his fingers pressed together and his hand on top of his right one. All he can feel under his palms are hard muscles, tight along some places, all of them on Makoto's back which has become broader than Haru's because of all the physical work he's volunteered into ever since he realized he was capable of it. They were only a glimpse of Makoto's muscled form, the whole of which Haru is very aware of considering how they've always swum together. That, and because he'd managed to get Makoto to pose for him once for a drawing.

 

Sometimes, when Haru looks closely at Makoto while Makoto's not looking at him, he can hear the reasons for the gradual change in him. He hears Makoto's wish for strength, because he doesn't want to be a burden to anyone anymore. He hears Makoto's will to become helpful to the people he cares for, to become someone who can be relied on instead of being someone dependent on everyone else. It makes him feel a little more determined on his own, though he can't ever let Makoto know that. It'd be the fuel to his fire as a busybody for years to come, and Haru already deals with enough of Makoto's meddlesome nature on a daily basis.

 

"Haru, that tickles," Makoto says with the tiniest of giggles as he squirms against the hold Haru has along his sides. Haru dares to trace feather-light lines with his fingers on Makoto's sides in response, to which Makoto chokes back a laugh. He whines, only sounding a little annoyed, "Haru!"

 

"Makoto," Haru says in reply, smiling with an eyebrow quirked in amusement when Makoto tries to wiggle away from his hands. To think that such a large person could be reduced to a giggling mess with such a light touch.

 

"This isn't fair," Makoto huffs, twisting his body until he's on his side. Haru's eyebrow somehow manages to rise higher at that.

 

"Was it fair when all of you ambushed me that one time after swim practice?" Haru asks. His words make Makoto pause in turn, though it doesn't faze him much in the end.

 

"That was different," Makoto mumbles, one arm already over his side in case Haru ever tries tickling him again. "We only wanted to see Haru laugh, that's all."

 

"How is that different from what I did?" Haru asks, having already removed himself from Makoto's back to sit on the unoccupied portion of the bed.

 

"You didn't want to make me laugh, you just," Makoto hesitates, still trying to find words, before settling with, "you just thought it'd be fun to tease me."

 

"That's the same thing with what you did," Haru deadpans.

 

"No it's not!" Makoto cries, a hand gesturing wildly as he tries to get Haru to understand his point. "You know how sensitive I am! We didn't even think you'd laugh at all."

 

"So what?" Haru huffs, folding both of his arms over his chest as he narrows his eyes at Makoto. "We did the same thing, and that's that."

 

" _Jeez,_ " Makoto groans, using one hand to cover his face as he falls back onto the bed in a resigned heap. "Why is Haru being so difficult?"

 

"Maybe because I was asked to massage someone who doesn't know how his own limits," Haru says point-blank, to which Makoto hides a wince using the hand already on his face. "You're only complaining about it because you're tired."

 

"Of course I am," Makoto says in a whine, rolling on the bed until he's back to his former position. "Haru only ever does that when he feels like doing perverted things."

 

"I'm not the one who feels strange from being tickled," Haru says, biting back an amused sound when Makoto buries his face into his pillow out of embarrassment. Haru had only found out that his sensitivity to being tickled was connected to his sensitivity with certain other parts of him when they first did it, the first try not having been as successful or graceful at all since Makoto couldn't stop giggling like an idiot. It had all happened without his cock ever becoming flaccid too, which was a feat that even Makoto felt embarrassed of.

 

"I'm going to go get the futon," Makoto mumbles, breaking Haru out of his thoughts as he pushes himself up with both of his arms. He's barely up before he buckles and falls back onto the bed, a yelp of surprise having escaped him when Haru reached out to trace a feather-light line along his elbow. "Haru!"

 

"I told you," Haru says, not giving Makoto the chance to get up as he sits on his lower back, "I don't like leaving things unfinished."

 

"But-!" Makoto begins to complain, though he cuts himself off when Haru shifts right on his lower back in a noticeable way. He forces himself to keep quiet even when he has his head turned away, though Haru can tell that he's embarrassed anyway just from his red-tipped ears. "Nn," Makoto grumbles under his breath, hiding his whole face in the space of his folded arms.

 

Haru reaches out and presses both of his hands firmly along Makoto's shoulder blades, palms pressing down and kneading against Makoto's tense muscles. Makoto doesn't say anything still even as Haru continues his ministrations, the motions of his hands gradually becoming slower and lighter as they reach lower.

 

"I won't do anything you don't like," Haru says to soothe Makoto, who peeks up at him for the slightest moment in surprise. There wasn't a need for Haru to verbalize it, seeing as Makoto knew it without him saying it. Still, Haru wants him to understand what he's trying to do. "Today," Haru begins, dull nails raking red lines along Makoto's upper back, which earns him a shiver, "I'll only do things that will make you feel good."

 

Makoto's eyes widen at those words and he flushes red up to the tips of his ears. His mouth becomes dry and it's like his voice has completely left him; he's far too stunned to even think of stopping Haru when he leans in to press an almost reverent kiss on his shoulder. 

 

The only thing that Makoto can think of, oddly enough, is, " _Thank god we don't have swim practice tomorrow._ "

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize if there were any hints of OOCness. I try. I try so hard, my friends. 
> 
> Still, thank you very much for reading! <3


End file.
